Page 25 of Healing Eleanor

“Yeah. One of their seamstresses. She actually worked with Eleanor directly.”

Louie rolls around in a patch of grass nearby, and I close my eyes, bracing myself for whatever news Kasper has to share next.

“She said there were rumors surrounding Eleanor’s departure. Nothing confirmed, of course. Just whispers that she may have been involved with someone in leadership.”

My stomach sinks slightly. Not because I believe it, but because I know how fast stories like that spread.

“She said all of that?” I ask quietly, Louie tugging insistently at the leash, clearly wishing I’d pay attention to him instead of my spiraling thoughts.

“She was cautious,” Kasper replies. “Said Eleanor was talented, no doubt about that. But she left suddenly and quietly… with no recommendations.”

I don’t answer right away. Louie sniffs a flower bush, then sneezes so violently I almost laugh. The absurdity of it breaks the tension for a moment, though the knot in my stomach remains.

“Nik…” Kasper’s voice softens. “We can’t afford another fire. We just lost three dancers, and we need more to fill the corps. We need stability, not a scandal—especially one we don’t understand.”

“I know.” I sigh, tugging Louie gently away from a pile of dirt he’s claimed as his own.

Another long silence stretches between us.

“But I still want her to come,” I say finally, giving Louie a gentle nudge toward the grass. “She could be exactly what we need.”

“Even with that?” he asks, a hint of hesitation in his voice.

“Because of that.”

Kasper doesn’t respond, so I press on. “I know it sounds reckless. I know how it looks. But when I watched that reel… I felt like I was watching Daria.” I let out a slow breath, steadying myself. “It felt like God was nudging me, telling me she was the one.”

“God,” he echoes, not mockingly, just tired. “You’re sure?”

“I am.” I tug Louie along the sidewalk, the leash slacking between us as he growls at the fallen leaves. I glance toward the streetlights, their amber glow pooling across the pavement. “We’ve been looking for a dancer like her for years, Kasper. I think we at least owe it to ourselves to let her audition.”

There’s a pause on the line before he exhales, long and measured. “Alright. I’ll finalize her invitation.”

“Thank you,” I say quietly. “I’ll take full responsibility. If anything comes up, it’s on me.”

“I know it is,” he replies. “And that’s why I’m trusting you.”

We hang up, and the night stills around me. No cars, no footsteps, just Louie’s soft panting. I stand there on the sidewalk, the phone heavy in my hand.

God, if I heard You wrong, stop me now, I pray silently. But if this is from You… if she’s meant to be part of this… then help me walk in obedience. Even if it’s messy. Even if it’s hard.

A quiet steadiness washes over me. Enough to breathe again and to take the next step.

“Come on, Lou,” I murmur, giving the leash a small tug.

He trots beside me as we walk back toward the brownstone. The night is cool and clean, the weight on my shoulders just a little lighter than before.

6

On Pointe

Eleanor

Straps dig softly into my wrists as I flow through another spinal wave. When I extend my leg, I keep my eyes fixed on the floor, pretending I don’t hear the laughter behind me.

It’s not unusual to hear giggling or hushed conversations in Adrian’s classes. His sessions always carry a loose, easy energy. Most of the dancers here also work part-time at Forma, which gives the class a kind of built-in camaraderie.

But today, the laughter feels different.